You Can't Beat It
by lizhowhp
Summary: A few scenes showing the decline of Luke Snyder, set during the election/Brian story arc. Slash: Luke/Noah. One-shot. AU-ish.


**A/N:** Posted to my livejournal account on December 31, 2008, and censored very slightly for this website's sake.

* * *

_"What are you good at?"_

_"Besides binge drinking?"_

_"Don't joke."_

_"Sorry. I guess I'm good at… I'm actually pretty good at making people unhappy."_

_"Luke…"_

_"Yeah, sorry."_

* * *

"Oh, God. Oh, God, Holden!"

Luke softly fell against the wall; he knew what his mother was freaking out about.

"What, Lily? What did you find?"

"Look at how many bottles he has, Holden! How did he get all of these? He's not twenty-one yet, I don't understand!"

It was times like this that he truly loathed living with his family. Even well after the age of eighteen, after firmly stating time and time again that his personal stuff was out of bounds, somebody always stumbled upon something private, be it accidental or meddlesome in nature.

"Calm down, Lily. It's just… Maybe he has an explanation for all of these."

"What, that he's starting a collection of empty alcohol bottles?"

While the situation was serious and he didn't doubt that he'd be getting a very stern reprimand sometime in the next half hour, Luke grinned, rolling his eyes to look up at the ceiling. In a weird way, he _had_ been collecting the bottles; he'd drink the contents and then hoard the bottle away with its brothers and sisters deep in the back of his closet. At first he'd told himself it was so none of the family noticed the staggering amount of alcohol containers in the recycling bin, but, when he really reflected on it, he realized that they were almost a badge of honor of some sort. He didn't really want to dig into that, though, or what it said about his current state of mind.

"God, Holden, has he completely forgotten about his kidney? Doesn't he remember the hell that we all went through? I just don't understand what he's thinking!"

"He has been going through a rough patch, Lily, and -- "

"Don't tell me that you're defending him! Holden!"

"I'm not, I just -- "

Luke pushed himself off the hallway's wall, ready to find courage and face the beast. Steadying his shoulders, taking in a deep breath, he walked over to his room's open door. "Mom, Dad, what are you guys doing in here?"

His mother turned away from the closet; there were tears in her pretty eyes. The empty bottle of vodka in her hand made Luke ache, but he kept his mouth shut. Lily didn't hold herself to that: "Luke, how could you?"

* * *

_"You can write well, can't you?"_

_"I can arrange words in a pretty way, I suppose."_

_"That's a talent."_

_"Yeah, but it doesn't work any more, doesn't mean anything."_

_"Why?"_

_"I'm all out of inspiration."_

* * *

College was a complete no-go; Oakdale U refused to take him back, and none of the community colleges in a fifty mile radius would touch him. His future looked bleaker and bleaker with each day.

"What you need to do, mister, is to sit down and use the gift God has so kindly bestowed upon you," Lucinda suddenly spoke, breaking Luke out of his reverie.

He looked up from his cereal in surprise. "I didn't even know you were home, Grandma."

"Well, kiddo, where else would I be? I'm handicapped, I need to be treated with kiddie gloves, I need to be on twenty-four hour bed rest!"

Smiling at her dramatic antics, he turned back to his lunch, spooning up some more soggy Wheaties. Lucinda was still hovering over his shoulder, expecting some sort of response, but Luke couldn't bring himself to look at her without feeling tremendous guilt.

"So? Am I to be ignored, darling, or is the cereal just that riveting?"

"I don't have a gift, Grandmother. I'm just boring Luke Snyder with no prospects."

"Please tell me you're being purposely obtuse, grandchild of mine, or I'll have to beat some smarts into that, oh, so pretty head."

He knew what she meant: writing. She hadn't been the first person to approach him with a grand scheme for his future. A few family members and friends had told him to get started on The Great American Novel, to try and get rich off his 'talent,' but he just wasn't in the mood to pour himself onto a computer screen.

"I get what you mean," Luke said, the sentence short and purposefully clipped. He glanced at Lucinda again, taking in her ashen cheeks and shimmering wedding ring, and quickly looked away. It stung him to see the hurt expression on her face out of the corner of his eye, the way she pulled the ever present parka tightly over her newly scarred chest.

"You need to do something, Luke," she returned sharply. Pain was in her tone.

"I just can't, Grandma, okay? I've tried, but I don't have a good plot or idea."

The truth, however, was that he didn't want to see the mess he currently was reflected in written form. He lived it day to day, minute by minute, and that was enough, thank you very much.

* * *

_"And how are things with Noah?"_

_"The same."_

_"Even though you've sworn off booze?"_

_"I swore off booze the last time, too, and that didn't work out so well."_

_"Don't evade the question."_

_"Noah says it doesn't matter if I was drunk or sober; I did what I did, that's that."_

* * *

"Hey, you want a drink, Luke?"

The voice, familiar yet unidentifiable, asked, interrupting Luke's hopefully quick jaunt through Old Town. He turned to look at the guy, a random jock from his old pysch class. Motioning to his coffee (which was not bought at Java) with his chin, he shook his head and said, "No thanks, man, I'm good."

"I meant something hardier, y'know? To get the chill off?"

The hints weren't easy to ignore. Though he wasn't destined to be a member of the collegiate group, Luke was still familiar with the lingo used by underage partiers.

"I have a pack of beer back at my dorm, if you want. I wouldn't mind sharing; you probably need it more."

A beer would be good. A beer wasn't anything too bad, a drink his father and several other adults drank on a day to day basis, and he wouldn't get drunk off of one measly can... Temptation sizzled in his veins, running up and down his arms, heating his chest, making his heart beat faster and faster. The urge to say yes grew more prominent with every passing moment. After all, it had been two days since his last drink.

"My roommate's gone, so we could, uh, y'know…." The jock, a familiar face that still lacked a name, licked his lips lewdly. "You may not be in college anymore, but that doesn't mean you can't teach me a few things. I give you a few beers, you help me out, huh?"

Cold shock settled in the pit of his stomach, bright and consuming. Was that the reputation he had now? 'That Snyder, y'know, the alcoholic reject? Well, if you give him a beer he'll go down on you; two and I'm sure he'll let you fuck him.'

"I don't drink," he spat, deeply offended. More importantly, though, more surprising, was the sheer hurt that he was feeling. "And I sure as hell don't hang out with little college kids anymore."

"Oh, screw you, man! You only had to say no!"

The jock's face became clearer and clearer as the seconds ticked by, a name coming to the forefront of his mind. This boy, the one who had absently nodded his head in greeting after their shared morning psychology class, was one of Kevin's cronies, Devon Maxwell. Hate like he had never before experienced welled high in him. "Fuck you, you pathetic, closeted fag."

As he walked away, he realized just how much Devon looked like Brian.

* * *

_"So you don't think there's a chance of reconciliation?"_

_"Honestly? No."_

_"And you've given up hope."_

_"I didn't say that."_

_"But you think it's a futile effort."_

_"Well, yeah, but I'll be damned if I give up trying."_

* * *

"I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you."

Luke arched off the bed, watching with awe as Noah murmured the words while kissing down his stomach. "God, Noah, I love you."

"I love you, too, Luke," he whispered, so romantic and amazing. His brown eyes were dilated and warm with lust as he asked, "Can I make love to you, Luke? Would that be all right?"

"That would be… God, Noah, please!"

Noah moved off of Luke, the thin white sheet falling completely off the king sized bed as he went, and reached over to grab a small bottle of lube off the bedside table. As he returned to his prior position, Luke couldn't help but to grab a handful of whatever he could get. It was the first time he touched Noah that intimately.

"Mmm. You really don't have to ever stop that."

"Except for when you put it in me," he said, trying to be coquettish as possible. He ended up laughing when Noah rolled his eyes. "What are you lazing about for, huh? You have work to do, Mayer!"

Without another word the bottle's cap was snapped open with a skilled thumb, a generous portion was squeezed out into Noah's big hand, and quickly, almost too quickly, Noah was prepping him.

It felt good. It was really, really good. Before he had enough time to truly romanticize the simple act of preparation, Noah was ready to actually get to the good stuff.

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

"I love you, Luke."

"I love you, too, Noah, so much."

Noah slid inside of him and life was perfect. He felt high, like he could accomplish anything he ever dreamed of doing. When Noah started to actually thrust, though, he felt so loved and…

Luke woke up.

* * *

_"But you know everybody loves you, right?"_

_"Yup."_

_"And we just want you to find peace."_

_"Uh huh."_

_"Why are you so noncommittal?"_

_"Why are you playing therapist?"_

* * *

"Rehab!" he cried out incredulously. "I don't have a problem! I can control it!"

"No, Luke! No, you can't!" Lily shouted back at him, her eyes still brimming with tears.

"Yes, I can!" Luke turned away from her; he could feel tears start to well up in his own eyes. "I'm fine, Mom, I swear. I'm fine!"

"Are you, dear?" a new voice asked. Lucinda walked into the room, a familiar body trailing slowly behind her. "Do you really think you've got this all under control? Are you the master of your fate right now or is the whiskey?"

A few tears finally spilled over as he took in Noah's solemn face, the man's glittering eyes. He was completely speechless for a few seconds. Betrayal flushed throughout his entire body, disgust following quickly behind. "You've got to be kidding me. Are you really so pissed at me that you'd try to convince my family to lock me up!"

"It's not like that," Noah protested, his voice just as thick as Luke's. "I didn't realize how bad it got. I just thought you'd got drunk once or twice since… But you've been drinking _everyday_, Luke, and that's not healthy."

"Just get over it, Noah! I get it, okay? I hurt you so now you now want to hurt me. Don't you -- "

"You had so many bottles in your room, Luke," Holden suddenly spoke, his voice low and heavy. He stood near the front door, blocking his son from an easy escape, and it looked like the weight of the world was crushing his normally strong shoulders. "Dozens."

He thought he could deal with his mother and father knowing about his indulgence, but he had never anticipated that they would've turned his sporadic drinking into such a spectacle. Raising his hands to wipe away the few tears that decorated his cheeks, he whispered, "You guys don't know what you're talking about. None of you do."

That was the root of it; he had never felt so alone, not even after the tumultuous period of coming out. His parents didn't understand him, couldn't relate to him no matter how hard they tried. And Noah… It had been so painful discovering Damian's betrayal, so agonizing that he'd never thought he'd experience such crippling pain again, but Noah had managed to hurt him worse. Discarded him, forgot him…

Luke was still bleeding, and it was too late for the bandage to successfully be applied.

* * *

_"Oh, shut up."_

_"That's exactly what I've been thinking."_

_"Luke!"_

_"I'm sorry. I'm borderline repentant actually, if that makes it better."_

_"Thank you, Saint Luke."_

_"I try."_

* * *

"I love you, Luke."

The words were abrupt and almost out of place, but Luke gratefully accepted them. "Y'know, I had a dream that started like this once…"

Noah laughed, rolling over to face his partner. "It was best dream of your life, Snyder."

"Well, I didn't want to wake up, so, yeah, I'm pathetic."

"Not pathetic. A lot of things, yeah, but never pathetic."

Luke took Noah's hand in his, knitting their fingers together with an ease born from a comfort Luke had never before felt. The sun seemed to shine down right on their joined hands, making Luke itch with the want to run to a computer to just write pages and pages about the significance of this.

"Now tell me: do most of your dreams start off with two innocent schoolboys laying half-dressed in front of a sparkling pond?"

He pushed himself up on his side, angling his chest so he was the taller of the two. "_Two_ innocent schoolboys? You're so deluding yourself, Noah."

Noah closed his eyes, a bright smile on his lips, and if Luke's father hadn't been splashing in the pond with Faith and Natalie… He leaned down so his mouth was next to Noah's ear and whispered, as seductively as his inexperience would allow, "I'd think you be more interested in what happens to the schoolboys after the dream's start."

"Oh, Jesus…" Noah's eyes snapped open. He stared at the blond for one hungry minute, his eyes burning with lust. "One of these days, Luke, I'm gonna take you somewhere nice and teach you over and over and over again what gay little schoolboys really do."

"Hey, boys! You guys want to come in? You're looking a little flushed," Holden called out. Luke knew by the teasing smirk that his father knew exactly why the teens looked so heated.

"No thanks, Dad!" Not quite as embarrassed as Noah but mildly chastised, he dropped his head down into the dark crevice where Noah's arm met his warm chest. It wasn't so bad in that position, not at all, and he could imagine laying here with this particular boy for the rest of his life.

The clouds churned overhead, making Luke frown in disappointment. Noah didn't seem to mind the sporadic little rain drop hitting him on the forehead, but Luke saw that the sunlight was gone.

* * *

_"You've been completely honest with me, right?"_

_"Yup."_

_"You're lying."_

_"Yup."_

_"What'd you lie about?"_

_"I can't remember."_

**The End**


End file.
